


Stone Walls Do Not a Prison Make

by within_a_dream



Category: Affinity - Sarah Waters
Genre: F/F, Prison Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 09:47:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10637352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/within_a_dream/pseuds/within_a_dream
Summary: Selina and Margaret steal a few secret moments together in Millbank.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [talkingtothesky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/talkingtothesky/gifts).



She couldn’t bring herself to set down the details in writing. Seeing the day’s events laid out in ink, pressing it into the pages of her diary, would give it a stark reality that she simply couldn’t bear. Better to commit it to memory, let the edges blur as they faded into something like a dream. The important parts, she was certain she’d never be able to forget.

Selina had taken her hand during their conversation, as she often had before. Margaret had squeezed Selina’s hand, grateful for the contact (for oh, it wasn’t until their meetings had turned to friendship that she’d realized how she longed for human touch), and leaned in closer. Selina had paused, in the middle of telling Margaret something she couldn’t now recall, to kiss her on the lips.

Lightly, so lightly that Margaret nearly couldn’t feel it, but it awakened a desire within her she hadn’t known herself capable of. She had opened her mouth to speak when Selina kissed her again, deeper, to silence her.

“You must keep quiet,” she whispered, her breath tickling Margaret’s lips.

“Of course. I forgot myself.”

Selina brushed a hand against Margaret’s cheek. “Soon, I shall be free, and we can speak as loudly as we want.”

The thought was captivating—the two of them in a villa in the countryside, laughing and embracing and kissing without a thought of the rest of the world. A far cry from the whitewashed walls of Millbrook and the eerie silence of its halls, broken only by the matrons’ footsteps. Margaret found her imaginings drifting to activities of a different nature, something she might have been ashamed of in months past. But here and now, Selina’s gaze seemed to say that she knew what Margaret was thinking, and that it was nothing to feel ashamed of.

Selina kissed her forehead. “And what are you thinking of?”

_ You already know _ , Margaret thought. “Of what we might do after we leave London.”

“Shall I tell you what I’d like to do?”

Margaret nodded.

“I’ll take you out, and dress you in the finest silk.” Selina laid a hand on Margaret’s hip, and Margaret shivered at the touch. “Then as soon as we arrived home, I would take it off you. I long to see you, Aurora,  _ all _ of you.” She ducked her head, pressing a kiss to Margaret’s bosom. “I would kiss you here, without these cumbersome layers of cloth to keep me from you. And here, and here, and here.” She traced her hand over Margaret’s throat, her stomach, between her legs. Margaret bit back a moan at the last, moving into Selina’s touch.

Selina smiled impishly, and drew away to hitch Margaret’s skirts up. She pressed their lips together, muffling the gasp that Margaret couldn’t hold back as she ran a hand up her thigh, lingering just shy of the spot Margaret so longed for her to touch.

“Please,” she whispered. “Please, Selina…”

“Can you stay silent?”

Margaret nodded and leaned against the wall, clasping her hand over her mouth.  Selina pressed a finger to her entrance, stroking her at just the right pressure to tantalize without satisfying.

“You’re so wet for me,” she murmured. She lingered there as Margaret pleaded as quietly as she could manage, and finally, finally slid into her cunt.

It sounded all too vulgar, put bluntly like that. Margaret had always hated the crudeness of the words she found when trying to describe their relationship, but especially now. This wasn’t some back-alley tryst, or something fast and filthy, but rather a union of minds and bodies. After all, Selina had already been inside her thoughts, her soul—what was one more form of penetration?

Selina curled her finger, pressing a kiss to Margaret’s neck and cupping her breast through her bodice. Lord, it was torture, being so close and yet separated by so many things. Margaret cursed her dress, the iron bars that held Selina in, the judge who had sent her here. Then Selina moved her thumb to rub over Margaret’s pearl, and she had to bite down on her hand to keep from screaming.

“Shh,” Selina murmured, her lips brushing Margaret’s ear. “You’ve been so quiet, so good.”

Margaret pulled Selina to her and kissed her, desperate to be as close to her as possible. Selina returned the kiss, and increased the pace of her movements under Margaret’s skirt—fucking her, really, no matter how much Margaret hated the word. She rutted into Selina’s movements, tiny gasps falling from her mouth into Selina’s kiss.

It seemed inconceivable that no one had noticed. Even as Margaret muffled her cries, the rustle of her skirt and the wet noise of Selina’s movements within her filled the cell. Margaret’s own heartbeat echoed in her ears, so loud that she could imagine the women of the neighboring cells hearing it, pounding off the stark white walls like the beating of a drum. Her cheeks burned at the thought of being caught at this, of how horribly carnal it would look to the matrons.

“You’re beautiful like this, Aurora.”

Selina’s whisper tore Margaret away from her shame, and brought her to her climax. She shuddered in Selina’s arms, biting back the things she wanted to shout to the heavens. They sat like that a moment, Margaret sweat-covered and shaking, leaning against Selina and trying in vain to catch her breath.

“You’ve been here a long while,” Selina said, not even a quiver in her voice to betray what they’d just done. She gave Margaret one last caress before taking away her hand, tugging her skirts flat and straightening them out as best she could.

Margaret nodded and stood, brushing the wrinkles from her dress and tucking strands of hair back into place. “Soon,” she said, almost a question.

Selina nodded. “Soon.”

As Margaret walked out of Millbank, she started at every glance from a matron, every call from a cell. Surely they could all see what had happened, surely they were laughing at her for ever thinking she could hide it. Her heartbeat didn’t quiet until she’d reached home, and even then, when her thoughts strayed to Selina, she found it quickening again.

That night, she found her dreams returning to Millbank, to Selina, to her caresses and plunging fingers. She imagined what she would do once Selina was free, what freedom they’d have to explore one another without fear of intrusion. Margaret slipped her own hand between her legs, imagining it was Selina’s and stifling her movements so that the rest of the household couldn’t hear. With her eyes shut, she could almost feel Selina lying behind her, curled up against her back. Margaret imagined Selina’s hand guided hers as she stroked herself to wetness and worked a finger inside of herself.  _ You’re beautiful _ , Selina would say as she kissed Margaret’s neck.  _ You’re close, aren’t you? _

“I love you,” Margaret whispered into her pillow as she shuddered to completion. As her breathing slowed and the thrill faded, the feeling of emptiness returned. She longed to feel Selina in the flesh, to revel in the warmth of another body pressed against hers. But she was alone in her bedroom with the fire burned too low to warm her, and her own touch would have to be enough until she and her Selina could hold each other freely, in the light of the sun.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Richard Lovelace's "To Althea, From Prison"
> 
> Thank you to S for betaing!


End file.
